If you have working eyes and ears, then you probably already know that the internet is freaking tf out over Netflix’s latest hate-watch Tidying Up, which is all about the KonMari method of organizing. The revolutionary tidying method that involves rolling your frat formal T-shirts (because, yes, I still have those at 27 years old and, YES, they still bring me joy) instead of stacking them is the one that’s sweeping the nation. Never mind that my mother has been telling me to roll instead of stack for the last 15 years of my life. If she wanted me to actually follow that piece of advice then she should have told me how well that content would perform on my IG stories. Just saying, mom!!
In addition to rolling our clothes, Marie Kondo, the
cult leader mastermind behind the tidying method, also wants us to throw out all of our sh*t unless it “sparks joy in us.” To which I’d just like to say, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, MARIE. Look, just because I own all seven seasons of Buffy The Vampire Slayer on DVD when I do not own a device with a DVD player anymore doesn’t mean those DVDs don’t spark immense joy in me anymore!!
That said, Marie Kondo did get me thinking about if I could apply the KonMari method of tidying to other aspects of my life. Just because I’m not ready to throw out the Kappa Sig Semi Formal T-shirt from 2012 doesn’t necessarily mean I’m not ready to throw out the former Kappa Sig frat member who gave me said shirt from my phone book, right? So, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day I decided to use the KonMari method for organizing the men in my life, specifically the ones still wasting space in my contacts list, to see if it would bring me joy or just bring me more homicidal feelings by having to look at their names again.
Emily gets it.
For the sake of time (I assume if you’re reading this you probably don’t have the next 1,000 hours free to analyze my love life, no?), I’m only going to touch on a few of the men who inhabit my phone. I’m going to organize them by name, how we met, amount of time he’s been in my phone, if he still sparks joy, and finally where I landed on it all. I promise it will only slightly feel like you’re being emotionally waterboarded. So let’s get started!
Guy #1: Jake*
How we met: College. I had to go back into the catacombs of my contacts list to the very first f*ckboy to ever wreak havoc on my life, Jake. A little bit of background about Jake: I met him in college when he was rushing a fraternity. His favorite hobbies included reading Fight Club and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and then talking about said books as if he were the first white male in a polo to ever do so. His other favorite hobbies included listening to sad country music and dumping me in public places. Damn, I had great taste!
We were on and off throughout college despite the fact that he once dumped me on my birthday, mid-throw in the middle of a beer pong game. I hadn’t heard much from him post-college until his satanic 6th sense for my emotional well-being caught wind of me engaging in healthy romantic behavior and he decided to hit me up via several phone calls between the hours of 11pm-3am. That’s sort of been our relationship ever since.
How long he’s been in phone: 9 years *shudders*
Does his number spark joy: Hmmm. Does hating myself for 48 hours after drunk dialing him count?
Final verdict: Delete, delete, DELETE and maybe call the goddamn police. Tbh, this one was long overdue. I kept his number in my phone for so long mostly to remind myself that I’m better than him and to have on hand just in case. You know, just in case I blackout at 1pm after brunch on a Saturday and want some attention. We didn’t even live in the same state for years so I always thought “what’s the harm?” As if shame-spiraling for 72 hours after any contact with this person is not harmful. No no no no. Time to go. BYE.
Guy #2: Andy*
How we met: Tinder. Y’all say what you want about Tinder being a hookup app, but I’ve gotten way more dates off this app than any other one. Andy and I met when I first moved to New York and was living in a self-proclaimed “heartbreak hotel.” By “self-proclaimed,” I mean me and my roommates at the time made a group Twitter account to document our love lives and thought this was going to be our big break. To this day I think we have approximately 200 followers on that account.
Anyway. Moving on. Andy and I dated for about 4 months. And I don’t mean we “dated” between the hours of 8pm-2am, Thursday-Saturday. I’m talking about an almost-relationship here. We went on movie and dinner dates, and I spent enough time at his apartment to warrant having a spare set of contacts in his bathroom—it was that legit. The relationship ended, however, when I had the audacity to DTR right before Christmas break and he disappeared off the face of this earth. Seriously. I’m still thinking about putting his face on a milk carton.
How long he’s been in my phone: 1 year
Does his number spark joy: I have more joy for fat free ranch than I do for this person.
Final verdict: Delete. This one was pretty easy to get rid of. Looking back, there wasn’t a whole lot of heat in our relationship. I think his most appealing quality was that he took me on dates and, for the most part, treated me like a human being with actual human feelings. I was just starting to like this guy when he went into witness protection (I assume) and we weren’t together long enough for me to really get hurt. He doesn’t bring me joy or even mild excitement at the thought of him sending me a “u up?” text out of the blue, so I guess that’s when you know it’s really over.
Guy #3: Nate*
How we met: A bar. This guy I met after day drinking for six hours in the West Village and then decided to keep the buzz going into the night. I was hammered and he was very cute and it took me at least three outings that were very similar to the first one before realizing that the reason we always met up at the same bar is because he literally couldn’t get into any others with his ID. I believe his exact words to me when I questioned him about his age were: “I’m basically 21.” When he found out how old I really was (24 at the time), he was a bit too enthusiastic over our age difference. Though I wasn’t even old enough to rent a car, he treated me like I was a goddamn Mrs. Robinson and would say things like “teach me” in the bedroom. Did this stop me from hooking up with him for the rest of the summer? Absolutely not. We cut things off when he had to head back to school early for lacrosse pre-season training. We still Snapchat each other occasionally.
How long he’s been in my phone: 3 years
Does his number spark joy: Only in the amount of jokes I’ve been able to tell from the line “basically 21.”
Final verdict: Keep. I mean, why not? Maybe when he finally graduates college we can grab a beer with the ID that has his legal date of birth. Nate, if you’re reading this, call me!
Guy #4: Patrick Tinder
How we met: Tinder. I’m not even exaggerating when I say this is verbatim how his name is written in my phone. I believe our relationship lasted for about three days in the summer of 2015 where we exchanged
deeply intimate conversations Snapchats and he asked me to come “sit on his stoop.” I have a feeling he wasn’t talking about the beautiful architectural masterpiece he inhabited in Bed Stuy!
How long he’s been in my phone: 3.5 years
Does his number spark joy: Lol is this a real question? His number holds about as much sentimental value to me as the extra sock I found in my dryer the other day.
Final verdict: Delete. His number was the cockroaches of phone numbers because it somehow survived two stolen phones and a iCloud memory wipe. Suffice it to say, I shed no tears getting rid of his stoop-sitting ass.
Guy #5: Andy 2.0*
How we met: Tinder. Just to clarify: yes, I did meet two different Andy’s on Tinder and date them. I’m saying “Andy 2.0” like he was the better Andy, which is absolutely not true. He was just the second Andy I dated in the span of two years. This guy was interesting because, though I met him on Tinder, he was vouched for my a friend of mine who’d grown up with him. This made me believe that he was not a piece of sh*t when he really, really was. About a month in I realized he was definitely only in it to hook up (and on his terms only) and so I tried to do what Andy #1 did to me: ghost him. It did not go well. If I ignored his texts he would hit me up in earnest for weeks with “I miss you” and “u mad?” and “I just want to see you”. IF I would fall into his trap and meet him for a drink, he would immediately bring up going back to his place because didn’t I want to see the view from his
dick new apartment? Once we’d hook up he’d disappear into the ether for 2-3 months with his views of my IG story the only indication that I hadn’t made him up. Rinse and repeat for two f*cking years.
How long he’s been in my phone: 2 years
Does his number spark joy: His number certainly sparks something in me. But it’s less of a joy feeling and more of “set fire to everything he knows and loves” feeling. Ya know?
Final verdict: Delete. Why I kept this guy around for so long is really just a testament to how low I’ll stoop for attention. Thank u, nextttttt.
So there you have it. Do I feel happier now that my phone is a little more f*ckboy free? It’s hard to say. I certainly feel less of an urge to set fires so, that’s something right? I’ll take it.
*All names have been changed to save them from public ridicule. (Not that they deserve it).
Images: Giphy (4)
As we all know, women aren’t the only guilty ones when it comes to social media faux pas. Just because guys aren’t posting cleavage thirst trap pics doesn’t mean they get a free pass at using the internet. Any woman who has even casually used a dating app knows that the shit bros pull online is not only annoying AF, but flat-out embarrassing. Much like IRL, online bros can either be gentlemen or fuckboys, and it’s very difficult you’re going to get until you’re receiving 500 unsolicited pictures of his dick. Here’s a list of shit we hate that guys do online. All we need to do now is figure out who the manager of the internet is so we can talk to them and get this shit to stop.
1. Commenting Something Wayyy Too Inappropriate On A Picture
We’ve all seen the comment from a bro who may have spent too much time chatting with porn bots to remember how normal people talk. He’ll write something like “I’d let you sit on my face” or “Turn around so I can see that ass” on an innocent picture of you at your graduation. Basically he’s training to become creepy uncle in 10 years. Gross. Just gross.
2. Calling Out Your Cleavage
For some reason, men often feel a need to say “boobs” when they see boobs. It’s like a Pavlovian response or something. Yes, sometimes boobs show up in pictures. Half the world’s population has boobs. Yet men online feel like if they don’t say they’re seeing boobs, the boobs might disappear. Just stop calling out the boobs, it’s just uncomfortable for everyone.
3. Commenting On Instagram Models’ Photos
That’s like if we were tweeting at Justin Bieber or Ryan Gosling all day. Even if those Instagram
thots models were real, which half them aren’t, do you really think they’re going to see your comment? Like, what is your end game with commenting “beautiful” on Sveta from Romania’s boudoir photos? It’s just embarrassing for everyone.
4. Being Friends With Porn Bots
You can always tell which bros you know are fucking idiots by seeing who your mutual friends are when a spam bot tries to add you. The bot is always a clearly fake photo of some airbrushed/half-silicone model, and all the mutual friends are the dudes who are too dumb to realize a professional model wouldn’t want to talk to them. Then these people show up in your “People You May Know” section and you have to pause for a moment and try to remember if you struck up any friendships with a Russian hooker lately.
5. Harassing Women For Attention
Most Twitter trolls are probably men, because if a betch didn’t like you, she’d just tell you to your face and proceed cutting you out of your life instead of hiding behind some internet avatar and hacking your computer or whatever. Dudes that harass women online are just trying to get them to say something back because they’re sad and lonely. That’s why, when you encounter a troll, the best thing to do is block immediately and go back to your significantly better life.
6. Announce They Are Feminist
If you’re a feminist for the likes, you’re probably not a feminist. Like, there is no need for you to make a status about respecting women. Just go out and respect women. Announcing why people should think you’re a good person is usually the wrong way to become a good person, and I think we all know “feminist” dudes who turn out to be just regular old fuckboys once you really get to know them. I’m looking at you, Justin Trudeau. (But I sincerely hope I’m wrong. For once.)
7. Three Words: Shirtless. Gym. Pics.
We know how long it takes to get a perfect body selfie, trust us. If you’re taking a selfie at the gym, you probably spent a majority of your workout looking for the right filter. You cannot fool women, sir. We know exactly how long it takes to get a gym pic with good lighting. You can’t trick us.
8. Starting A Fight In Your Comment Section
Anytime a guy starts a comment with “Actually…” you know shit is about to get crazy. He’ll likely go on to explain something that had nothing to do with the original post, and your notifications start going crazy. Then when you forget you’re not supposed to feed the trolls and actually engage with him, he ends it all with “I’m glad we can have a good conversation!” and you realize he just wanted someone to talk to all along. Grow a pair and just talk like a human, dude.
9. Insulting You, Then Asking You Out
He goes from calling you ugly to asking for your number. Negging doesn’t even work in real life, and they’re trying to do it online now. Thank god for the block button. The reverse is just as bad, BTW. You know, the “Hey girl, how you doin’? Fuck you ugly fat bitch, I never wanted you anyway!”
10. Posting A Pic With A Puppy For Likes
The puppy picture of a bro is the equivalent of the bikini pic for the betch. We admit you look adorable with the puppy, but it’s a thirst trap worse than our beach pics. It’s like the bros are trying to show off how capable of love they are. And it works, every time. On second thought, maybe don’t stop doing this one. Just proceed with caution when you see it happening.
Which type of fuckboy should you date based on your zodiac sign? Find out here!